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First off, congratulations to everyone who ran the Marine Corps Marathon this weekend. You guys know how I love the Marines and this race, so OORAH! to all my fellow runners!

Big fan.

This weekend is the New York City Marathon. For so many runners, it’s a bucket list race. And it’s great, it really is. Running all 5 boroughs is something I wish for every New Yorker to experience once. It’s electrifying.

Of the 40,000 runners toe the line this Sunday, most would have trained for this day for several months, logged hundreds of miles, and perfected everything from fluid to chafe prevention.

You can do everything perfectly…

…and it still might not be your day.

I might use this meme too much, but it’s just so perfect.

There are too many reasons to list as to why you might bomb out your race. The bottom line is that it’s ok.

It’s ok to be mad. It’s ok to be sad. It’s ok to be disappointed. It’s ok to not want to smile when people say, “Smile! You’re a marathoner!” It’s ok to want to kick those people in the shins. (It is not ok to actually kick people, didn’t your mother teach you anything?)

It’s ok. It sucks. I’m sorry that it wasn’t your day.

You can try to figure out what went awry. You can re-play the race in your head to see if there’s something you need to adjust. You can try a different training program next time.

In the end, it’s sometimes just not your day. Getting your mind wrapped around that idea helps in the absence of an actual explanation. In that case, chalk it up to a shitty day and move on.

Hang your medal proudly next to the others. Eat your celebratory meal. Enjoy the week off from running and know that it’s just one race. You’ll get over the disappointment, I promise.

Certainly not as many as some. I have friends who have run A LOT more races than me who are much more qualified to answer this question.

Like Laura who is actually in the world record holder for being the youngest female to run a marathon in all 50 states. Actually, she’s done almost 100 marathons by now. And several ultras. She’s a badass.

It all starts with the expo and bib pick-up. If this aspect is disorganized or poorly staffed, it does not bode well for race day. The last thing you want to do on race day morning is run around because bag drop is a mile away from the corrals. Even worse, when the course isn’t clearly marked or properly marshaled.

I love that there are Marines on the course at the Marine Corps Marathon. No one runs a race like a bunch of Marine Corps officers.

The OCS Marine Lieutenants man the water stations. They don’t cheer, they shout, “Oorah, ma’am!” as you run by. It’s awesome.

2. Safety

Most race courses are run on closed roads. I mean, duh. Right? When you’re out running a race, you sort of expect that the race organizers have made your safety a top priority. Yeaaaah, not all races directors.

The Hamptons Marathon and Half Marathon are not run on closed roads. And it sucked. I wrote to the race directors to let them know it was a dangerous situation for runners and they basically blew me off. Not running that race again.

Great race day outfit. Lousy course safety. Boo, race directors.

3. Race-friendly course

It’s not that anyone loves a straight-up out and back. That’s boring. But I think most of us also don’t want a loop-di-loop course. You can’t find a groove when you’re constantly making turns and I’d say the majority of us are out there to run our fastest race possible.

At the Chicago Marathon a few years ago, it was beastly. It was so hot that they cancelled the race. That’s HOT. But they also ran out of cups for water. I mean…WHAT?!?!?! I have also heard about races running out of post-race snacks. I gotta tell ya, after a marathon I. NEED. FOOD. Like now.

I have been known to eat an entire pizza by myself post-long run. It’s true.

A race that runs out of promised fuel and fluids along the course is unacceptable. Medical tents and bathrooms need to be exactly where they say they’re supposed to be. And there can never be too many POJs.

5. Reasonable pricing

There are half marathons out there charging $128 for race entry. To put that in perspective my first marathon, the ING NYC Marathon, cost $125 in 2002. Now it’s $228. I gotta tell you, if you’re charging me that much for a race, I expect a hot shower and a massage at the finish line.

I heard they ran out of medals at the Miami Half this year. Bummer.

Don’t be fooled, it’s all about the money.(Image courtesy of Esquire.com)

Some races are great and have fantastic expos, course support, swag bags, and fuel before, during and after the race. But if you’re handing me an ugly cotton t-shirt and a cup of water with a bagel after your race, it better not cost me more than $2/mile. Seriously.

Esquire ran a great piece about the money making business of road races.

And that’s what I want. It’s not too much to ask, is it? I don’t need a personal cheerleader who follows me along the race with a boom box or anything (that would be sweeeeet!) but…

I do need to feel safe.

I do need it to be affordable.

I do need the course to be reasonable.

I do need it to be organized.

And I definitely need the promised support on the route.

What do you need? What’s the best race you’ve run? I need to make a list of people’s favorites so I know what to register for next year! Tell me all about it.

On the one hand, you’ve trained for this for months and to have Mother Nature screw you at the last minute just plain sucks. One of my friends said she’d run another one that is also nearby but is two weeks later. That’s one way to go.

Uh-oh, spaghetti-o’s!

On the other hand, if the race coordinators are going to hold it despite a little rain (read: not during a hurricane, but a rain storm), I’d run as long as I felt safe. I mean, we train in the worst conditions over very long, hot summer days. Why should a little rain stop you?

You’ve battled the heat (you sweaty beast, you!), why not the rain?

Get a hat. Wear fitted gear. Make sure your shoes have good tread. Smile.

This is what I would wear. Fitted tank, fitted shorts (both made of Luxtreme), rain resistant lightweight jacket (if it’s lower than 55 deg), and a hat to keep the rain out of my eyes.

The choice is, obviously, yours. But remember, you can’t predict Marathon Sunday weather, which is why we don’t abandon a long run just because the weather isn’t optimal during training.

If you’re not obsessed with getting a PR or hitting a specific goal (anyone left?), give it a shot. Have some fun. Be the badass who ran a marathon in the rain and lived to tell the tale.

My last two marathons, I was just happy to finish feeling good. No PR. No BQ. But I was really proud of my performance and felt seriously awesome for powering through.

I earned that medal. I’m proud of that medal. And I didn’t PR, not even close. Totally worth it.

I had my very first, “Where’s the blog?!” inquiry and decided to wait til everything was settled before I share the reason for my absence: I’ve been busy freaking out.

When I decided to have surgery back in May, I was all, “Let’s do it! Then I can train for the Marine Corps Marathon and be colon-free and kicking butt! Yeah!”

First run colon-free (aka disease-free)!!!

Yeah…

…no.

When I wrote about DNF-ing, I had just completed an awesome 18 mile run. I was feeling GREAT! I had had an absolutely awesome training season and was ready to kick butt. I had no idea I’d basically be talking to myself in two weeks.

Two ER visits in five days and one seriously depressing conversation with my surgeon and ostomy nurse this week have sadly ended my journey to this year’s Marine Corps Marathon. I didn’t realize how much this meant to me until it was taken away.

This is my happy face. I am not making my happy face right now.

All the training. All the hard work to get back on the road and in the gym and into my spinning classes. All the horrifically humid, disgustingly hot summer long runs and short runs for the one goal of running 26.2 in one month: gone. It was SO HARD. REALLY. HARD.

Stupid scar tissue. You see, I had, ummm, major surgery and sometimes there are little complications that cause BIG problems. Like scar tissue. It’s normal and expected but, in my case, is kinking my small intestine and not really allowing food to pass easily. Hello, ER.

ER visit numero uno.

The second ER visit was so painful and awful that I couldn’t even pretend to be ok enough to take a picture. I think the rest of the patients thought I was giving birth. I yelled at the entire team of doctors, learned that Morphine is useless but Dilaudid is my friend, and taught the attending how to treat me.

What this all adds up to is surgery much earlier than expected.

Terrific. Can’t wait to rock the hospital gown look again.

I was planning on doing my J-pouch take-down in December between school semesters. Totally ideal for this busy gal. Well, the best laid plans pave the road to hell and I am on my way into the operating room much earlier to clear out the scar tissue AND do the take-down.

Two birds. One stone. Thanks, doc.

I’m bummed. No, pissed. I’m pissed.

Don’t let the thumbs-up-fake-smile fool you. I am pissed.

The timing sucks. I have to miss school. I have to miss the marathon. I have to miss one of my oldest friend’s wedding. I’m basically going to miss the best time of year for running and being in New York because I will be stuck at home recovering and then trying to catch up with school.

This sucks.

Yes, I know it’s temporary. Yes, I know it’s sooner rather than later “and isn’t that better?” Yes, I know that it means I won’t have to do surgery at Christmas. Yes, I know I’m lucky to have great doctors and lots of support. Yes, I know there’ll be other weddings and marathons and other beautiful Fall days.

*sniff* I love Fall in New York.

Seriously. I know all of that.

And it still sucks.

And I’m still scared.

But ready or not, here we go. Less than two weeks to get everything squared away. Wish me luck and hopefully, by the time I get rolled into that OR, I will have a much better attitude, for your sake and mine.

But I’ve only been back running for 3 months now. That whole surgery thing in May set me back a ways in my marathon training. Soooooooo, what’s a gal to do when she’s committed to running a marathon, for a charity no less, in 7 very short weeks? Suck it up and train smart.

Starting back, I started slow and short. My friend took me for my first jog around the block when I felt ready. I broke exactly zero records on that and just about every run to follow for the past 2 months or so. Only in the last few weeks have I started feeling like myself.

Slow. Heavy. But more like Abby Who Runs instead of Abby Who Just Had Surgery. Progress!

Run, run, run as fast as you can! Can’t catch me, I’m the cupcake woman! Admittedly, I don’t really have cupcakes all that often, which is sad but true.

My mental game is there. I struggled mentally with my first marathon back in 2003 but kinda got the hang of it after that. My game is primarily about endurance. And since I haven’t had much time to build endurance, I’m doing it in a rather unconventional way.

I’m running, yes, but I’m spinning. Like, twice a week and on days that I’m running and the day after a long run. And I’m lifting twice a week in addition to the 4-5 days a week of running.

One of my favorite Flywheel instructors is finally back from the Hamptons. Finally.

I need to train for the time, but not necessarily the mileage, to increase my endurance without getting injured.

I want to get stronger but I really can’t afford to add more run workouts.

I feel safe to push hard on the bike and in a gym.

A typical week looks like this:

Sometimes I decide not to run and I take a nap. It happens.

The spinning and the track workouts have definitely made a HUGE difference in my ability to add mileage in short period of time.

The other thing I do is mandatory take-down weeks once a month. I add mileage to my long run every week and then, after the third week of adding, I drop down. For example, the past 4 weeks have gone like this:

8/19: Battle of Brooklyn 10-miler

8/27: 14 miles

8/3: 16 miles

This weekend: 13 miles

Next weekend: 18 miles

This allows my body to take a break from all the adding on and have an easier, shorter long run every few weeks. We’re all about finishing here! No records being broken.

Well, maybe the shortest time from colectomy/ileostomy to marathon? Nah. Probably not.Anyway, if you’re in a hurry to go from nada to marathon (and have done a marathon before), this is a good way to add the mileage without breaking your legs. Works for me!

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Hi, I'm Abby! I'm a runner, coach, personal trainer, Lululemon Athletica Ambassador Alumni, and physical therapy student living and loving life in NYC. I love to run, eat and play with my husband and my very large family. What are you waiting for? Join me on my fitness journey--lace up those running shoes and change your life!

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